ARES' POV

Steam still clung to my skin as I stepped out of the bathroom, towel-dried hair damp and messy, a black bathrobe wrapped loosely around my frame. The marble floor was cold under my feet, but the chill that prickled down my spine wasn’t from the temperature.

I wasn’t alone.

Noah was already gone. I heard his quiet footsteps tiptoeing out earlier, probably thinking I wouldn’t notice. But someone else was here. The scent hit me a second later...sweet, vanilla faintly spiced. ...